


Morning

by stargayzing



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9408242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargayzing/pseuds/stargayzing
Summary: TAZ Lady Week Day 6: Fluff, Warmth, Beginnings





	

Killian has a certain reputation around the Bureau for being absolutely terrifying. It's probably mostly because she's a buff-as-shit orc and the fact that she's really _really_ good with her crossbow.

If she's honest? Carey thinks it's _hysterical_. It's not like Killian is particularly bloodthirsty. She has a short temper, sure, but she hates collateral; always complains it makes her look unprofessional. If anything, Killian is super competent - which, well. She supposed that can be scary in a woman, too. (Personally, she thinks it's... kinda hot.)

Dragonborns, as it turns out, are also one of those scary races. _Pfft_. They have no idea.

The only reason the humans don't shit herself around her personally as much is because she's slight for her race and has a good sense of humor. That's fortunate because, funny as it would be? Not so great when you have a dragonborn's keen sense of smell.

In Killian's case, her honest and blunt nature doesn't do much to dispell her reputation as a hardass.

Carey joined up with the ol' Bee-o-Bee only a few weeks after Killian did and the orc woman already had a bit of a reputation. Not that Carey really gives a shit about rumors; but _goddamn_ did the Madam Director someone manage to recruit a bunch of gossips. She's trusting her own experience on this and after a month of being on the same team (that's still missing its third member and therefor being sent on practice milk runs) she feels she actually _knows_ Killian. Not something most people can say.

Carey knows Killian isn't scary at all - is a big softie, even - but even she is baffled when Killian comes back from buying rations dripping wet and with something small and feathery cradled in her hands.

"What's that?" Carey says, getting up from her place by the fire to get a closer look. 'That' turns out to be tiniest bird she has ever seen. It's barely the size of Killian's thumb, downy feathers darkened by the rain and sticking to its body.

"I couldn't just leave it there," Killian says, like that explains everything. Maybe it does.

Fascinated, Carey leans onto Killian's shoulder to get a better look. "Is it dead?"

The way Killian stiffens at that is hard to miss; her pointed glare even more so. Raising her hands in surrender and backing off, Carey gives her team mate an apologetic smile.

The tense moment is interrupted, however, by a feeble chirp. Instantly, Killian's face transforms as she looks in wide-eyed wonder at the little bird she's holding.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, Carey ventures: "What are we going to do with it?"

The almost imperceptible way Killian's expression softens a little tells her she hadn't missed the 'we'. "Well..." Killian says, clearly not having thought this through. In any way or at all. "Do you think they allow pets on the moon?"

Carey musters up some optimism and says: "Won't know til we try, right? But first, go take a bath. You're dripping stinking rainwater all over this only kind of shabby carpet."

Killian hesitates.

"I'll take care of it," Carey promises, carefully extending her hands, "give it to me - I'll get it a little closer to the fire, warm it up a li'l. Trust me, alright?"

"I do," Killian says, after a moment of thought. "I do trust you." And, as carefully as she can, like it's more fragile and precious than even the finest glass, she transfers the chick from her own palm to Carey's.

It's... a strange feeling. The bird is tiny, doesn't weigh anything, really. A literal flyweight. It's damp and cool against her scales and, remembering her promise as Killian's leaves the room Carey carries it back over to the chair by the fire and very carefully sits down, bird in hand.

She just sits there for a moment, mentally going through her admittedly limited avian expertise, when she notices something that makes her start a little. Is that...? It's incredibly faint but... she can feel a heartbeat against her palm.

The tiny bird with its even tinier heart, pounding furiously to stay alive. It's something so incredibly mundane - the bird is alive, _of course_ it has a pulse - but also so profound. She can understand, now, why Killian was upset when she was so flippant about its death.

Without conscious thought, she cradles the chick closer to her as she realistically goes over its chances of survival. Not great.

But better, now, in the warmth with - do they have food? What do birds this size even _eat_? - inside with them. Killian probably saved its life. Carey should do her part, then.

With the corner of the bed's blanket, she dries it as gently as she can, then drapes the whole blanket over the seat of her chair and places the bird into the makeshift nest. It chirps again, stirring a little.

"Is it doing okay?" Killian asks, hair still wet but now smelling a lot more pleasant. As she closes the room's door, she adds: "I ordered us the most suspicious sounding thing for dinner in the hopes that, you know." Right. Maggots are probably a decent place to start.

"Far as I can tell, it's doing a bit better now," Carey says, smiling. "I think you saved its life, getting it inside."

"Well, I couldn't just leave it there," Killian repeats. "It was just lying on the grass by the side of the street. Anything could have happened to it. I waited around for a while but no parents showed up."

"That's why you were so late? And soaked," Carey says, copying a human habit and raising her 'eyebrows'. Killian crosses her arms and scowls. Which is her version of going _Gee, I sure am embarrassed right now!_

There's a knock on the door before Carey can start teasing her mercilessly. She gets up from her crouch, hand on the dagger hanging from her belt, and nods to Killian, who opens it. This shitty inn's only somewhat redeeming feature (besides the price) - the Inn Keeper's pretty and constantly cheerful daughter - is standing in front of their door with a tray and a smile. "Uncle Stu's Stew, coming up!"

"Thanks," Killian says gruffly, taking the tray. Carey rolls her eyes. Would it kill Killian to be polite to strangers? Or show some tact? Jeez.

"Good evening, Louise," Carey calls out, coming closer to the door with her friendliest smile, "does this have any maggots in it? Or, you know, anything like that."

Louise's jaw drops. "Of... of course not," she sputters, "this ain't- we're the nicest inn in [a town nobody's ever heard of], ma'am, we only serve our customers our best, highest most quality food."

"Aw man," Carey says.

Louise sees her disappointment and her brow creases, confused. "Did y'all... want... maggots?" She leans in and whispers: "Is this a lizard thing?"

Killian saves the conversation by repeating, "Thanks", and closing the door in her face.

"Rude," Carey says, hissing a little. "I think she was just about to spill on her secret insect larvae stash."

"You're terrible," Killian says, walking over to the bird and crouching down in front of it. She sticks the spoon in the bowl of stew and stirs it with an uncertain look on her face. When she lets go, the spoon remains upright. "Nice."

"Yeah, I'm not putting that anywhere near my mouth," Carey says, jumping onto the bare bed and getting cozy, scaly feet kicked up.

Killian watches her do that and then frowns. "What happened to our blanket?"

"Repurposed," Carey replies airily, indicating the tiny bird in its huge fluffy pile of blanket. "It's for a good cause. So we're just going to have to huddle for warmth."

"You're a Dragonborn," Killian points out, pragmatic as ever. "You have _spikes_."

"It's what's inside that counts," Carey says. She's joking, but... Well. Her views on Killian have definitely changed (improved?) today so it's accurate anyhow. The big plot twist being, of course, that Killian is an even bigger dork than she could possibly have imagined. It's... cute. She pats the empty space next to her and says, "C'mon then. I'll let you be the little spoon."

"Ugh," Killian says, but she kicks off her shoes and joins Carey on the bed. When she's comfortably situated, she looks over to the fire place. "Think Chirpie's going to be okay?"

"Wow. You are the worst at naming things," Carey says. She's smiling, though. "I think everything's going to be just fine."

There's quiet for a moment, soft and warm, until she adds: "Unless the Director kills us."

"... Damn."

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I do not, in fact, know anything about rescuing or raising small little birds. I just really liked the idea of these two BAMF Ladys bonding over taking care of one.


End file.
